


Without Touch

by CarmillaCarmine



Series: Measurements [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Coming Untouched, Crack, Esperiments, First Time, M/M, Sherlock finally finds out what's in John's pants, Smut, a dare, and he likes it, continuation to Like a Garden Hose and Fair is Fair 221Bs, measurements, very much, without
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 02:42:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20538830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarmillaCarmine/pseuds/CarmillaCarmine
Summary: John was certain that agreeing to measure cock length with Sherlock was a bad idea. His body, however, responded more enthusiastically than he would have expected.A continuation to crack/smut 221Bs:Like a Garden HoseandFair is Fair.





	Without Touch

John was certain that agreeing to measure cock length with Sherlock was a bad idea. His body, however, responded more enthusiastically than he would have expected. His eyes widened when Sherlock started unbuttoning his trousers. 

“What? You want to do it now?” John gaped. 

“Are you otherwise occupied?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow in question. 

“Well, no.” 

“Do you need a written invitation?” Sherlock nodded at John’s trousers suggestively. 

“Does it need to be umm...” 

“Hard? Yes, but I see you already have that covered.” He smirked and John felt heat spread to his cheeks at the blunt statement. 

“Right.” John tried to hide his embarrassment as he realised that if Sherlock noticed his erection now, he must have noticed all the other times he had previously had one when Sherlock had done something especially brilliant. 

With trouser button open, Sherlock walked towards the kitchen while tapping on his phone. 

“Where-” 

“Kitchen table, John, do keep up.” John followed Sherlock who placed his phone with an Excel sheet open on the table. He continued to open his trousers and holy shit, the madman was not wearing any pants. 

“John?” Sherlock prompted. 

“Yes, of course.” With sure fingers, trying to convince himself that it was not a big deal, John unbuttoned his trousers and lowered them along with his pants. He stood straight, thankfully not needing to stand on tiptoes to align his hips with the edge of the table. 

A thunk sounded next to him and he winced in sympathy, knowing what it was that hit the table but unable to look just yet. John took a breath, pulled out his cock and, glancing at Sherlock’s erection, cursed under his breath. 

“Here we go,” John said as he placed his erect cock on the table a lot more gently than Sherlock had. He couldn’t look at Sherlock’s face but somehow he could look at his cock. Both of their cocks lay aligned next to each other on the table where they had eaten breakfast together so many times. Sherlock’s cock was leaner than his own but long and graceful, not unlike the man himself. 

From out of nowhere, Sherlock pulled out a tailor’s tape. As he unrolled it, the end of the tape made a soft sound as it hit the ground. 

“Would you mind if I did it? Or would you rather do it yourself?”

John looked at the tape in Sherlock’s long fingers, fingers capable of coaxing music from a fragile instrument, but also capable of forming a fist to punch when needed. 

“I don’t mind,” was what came out of John’s mouth as a wave of heat threatened to set him on fire where he stood. 

With efficient movements, Sherlock positioned the tip of the tape at John’s groin, where his cock sprang out. John could feel the cold finger gently pressing the tape in place as the detective aligned the length of the tape along John’s cock. 

John’s intake of breath echoed in the kitchen as a finger of Sherlock’s other hand rested over the tape just on the head of John’s cock. 

“Mmmhmm,” Sherlock said before he let go of the tape to type the data he’d just collected onto the sheet on his phone. Without preamble, Sherlock took John’s cock, lifted it and slid the tape around it. 

“Oi!” John yelped but didn’t flinch. 

“You expressed your consent. Have you changed your mind?” Sherlock asked, letting go of the cock in his hand. 

“No, just...” John backpedalled as quickly as he could. “Warn me what you’re about to do. Your hands are cold.” John lied through his teeth when it came to the reason for his yelp, although Sherlock’s hand was indeed quite cold. His shocked exclamation however, had nothing to do with cold, rather the tingling that bloomed in his abdomen at Sherlock’s touch. To his utter amazement, he wanted more of the touch, not less. 

“Alright, I will measure the girth of-” 

“Yeah I got that part, thanks.” John realised he had lied himself into a corner as now he would have to listen to Sherlock’s low, seductive voice describing all the things he planned to do to John’s cock. 

“Well, now I need to do it again.” 

“Just, yeah...” 

Sherlock’s hand was around John’s cock again and he had to bite his bottom lip to contain the sound that wanted to come out of his throat. 

“I will measure the underside now.” Sherlock announced after putting the girth data into his neat tables. He held John’s cock in between his thumb and forefinger but it must have been slipping out of his grasp because Sherlock had to wrap his fingers around it to lift it in order to take proper measurements. 

John could feel his nails digging into his palms as he balled them into fists. It was all he could do not to thrust to feel Sherlock’s hand glide over his cock. Sherlock placed the tape on the underside and used his fist and other hand to hold it. He extracted the tape and lifted it up to look at where the thumb of his right hand held the final measurement. He let it go and with the same hand put in the data while his left hand remained lightly wrapped around John’s cock. 

“Sherlock?” 

“Yes?” He followed John’s gaze to where his hand held the throbbing erection adorned with a gleaming drop of precome at the tip. 

“Oh, sorry.” Sherlock abruptly took his hand away without lifting his gaze. He didn’t look the least bit sorry, but he did look disappointed and didn’t try to hide it. John felt the absence of the soft skin and gentle fingers on his heated flesh and immediately wished it back. It was clear by now that Sherlock wouldn’t be opposed to that idea in the slightest. 

“I don’t mind...” John’s voice became more guttural when he said it but he was inching towards a thin line of being beyond caring about such trivialities in light of current events. This time Sherlock looked up and he must have seen, must have deduced every single one of John’s thoughts, because his face turned from passive to surprised, then intrigued. His eyes narrowed and his left hand that now lay flat on the table inched closer towards John’s erection. The unmistakable twitch of Sherlock’s cock as it lay still hard on the table, made John swallow the excess of saliva suddenly being produced in his mouth. 

Sherlock’s hand was an inch away now, his pinky finger extended and almost touching John’s cock. 

“You don’t...” Sherlock’s voice rumbled low as the long-fingered hand gently closed over John’s hot, needy erection “...mind?” 

“Oh fuck!” John gripped the edge of the table. This time the meaning of the touch changed and it felt different on him. John didn’t move as he took in the reality of the situation. Sherlock Holmes was holding John Watson’s cock gently, tentatively in his hand and it felt as if a new era was upon them. As if a hurricane was about to smite them or the summer of all summers about to grace them. John’s resolve broke and he finally thrust into his flatmate’s hand. Sherlock took the none-too-gentle hint and tightened his hold. John thrust once more, this time releasing the groan that he was unable to hold in anymore. 

“How long has it been since you started masturbating to the thought of me doing this,” he squeezed his fingers tighter, “...to you, John?” Sherlock’s voice was a velvet baritone, heating John’s every nerve ending. 

“I haven’t- Ohhhh...” He stopped the lie at Sherlock’s tug on his cock and replaced it with a moan of pleasure. 

“The truth.” 

“The first night after I met you... Ohhhh do that again.” Sherlock tugged once more and John deemed that type of interrogation very successful as he was confessing but had no complaints about his treatment. 

“Good. Now, tell me what exactly did you fantasise about?” 

“Oh come on-” 

“Or I’ll stop.” The motion of Sherlock's hand ceased and it took a gargantuan effort on John’s part not to whimper in protest. 

“That’s extortion, you absolute dickhe- oooh yes like that.” After another glorious tug, Sherlock stopped again. Fuck it. “Okay fine.” John’s white-knuckled grip on the table didn’t loosen as Sherlock established a torturous rhythm on his cock. In the haze of the pleasure, John couldn’t take his eyes off of Sherlock's hand working, with the exception of a quick glance at Sherlock’s own cock, which was leaking precome. “The first time I imagined it, I was in the shower. In my mind, your hand was on me just like this. I was naked but you were fully clothed in the perfectly tailored suit you wore when we met.” John moaned when with a twist of his wrist, Sherlock awoke pleasure receptors John didn’t even know existed in him... and he was a bloody doctor. “There were other times when...” he trailed off to pant like the horny animal he felt he was. He realised then that Sherlock too, was panting even though his right hand was flat on the table as his left pumped John. “Do you want me to...?” John dipped his head in the direction of Sherlock’s heavy erection, laying abandoned and enticing John. 

“No!” Sherlock yelped. “You can’t.” He said more calmly then he closed his eyes and groaned as if just the thought of John doing that to him gave him pleasure. John realised he was not far from the truth when Sherlock’s cock twitched and leaked even more. John had seen a lot of cocks in his life, granted it had never been in an erotic setting, but he was sure Sherlock’s cock was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. The round head of it was now heavily weeping as if asking to be licked, sucked and pleasured. 

John’s mouth watered and yes, he realised his thoughts and fantasies had barrelled past the point of no return. At that moment, he ceased to care about the labels society insisted on giving depending on what person of which gender you’d like to touch or be touched by; all he cared about was Sherlock. Sherlock’s hand on him, John’s mouth on Sherlock’s cock... Would the sexy detective even let him do that? The idea sparked a flush that spread all over his body in a series of tingles that he knew he was unable to stop as Sherlock’s pumping rhythm didn’t slow. John looked at Sherlock's flushed face, slightly parted lips and gleaming eyes focused on John’s erection. Gorgeous. 

“Sherlock, I’m going to... oh fuck...” 

“Yes, John.” Sherlock’s voice soothed in the most erotic tone John had ever heard. With one more push of his hips, of his cock into Sherlock’s hand, John was coming, spurting his seed on the table as he panted. 

“Sherlock, Sherlock, oh fuck yes...” 

“John...” It was one word but said in a way that made it sound forbidden, secret and extremely filthy on Sherlock's lips. He felt the orgasm in his mind, abdomen, arms, legs, in every molecule in his body. John’s legs wobbled as it took all his energy, finally easing the aching need in him. Sherlock’s hand was slowing down with John’s final spurts and only stopped completely when Sherlock threw his head back and said John’s name again while closing his eyes. 

John, on the other hand, had his eyes blown wide, body still not recovered from the intense orgasm, and was watching as Sherlock tensed. His cock began to twitch on the table and, to John’s utter amazement, Sherlock came untouched, just goaded by John’s orgasm. John took in the sight before his eyes with reverie; Sherlock’s pale neck, long and straining, the features of his beautiful face as the expression was taken over by the orgasm. John had no idea how he’d lived without the man’s touch until now and hoped he would never again have to. 

“That was-” Sherlock half-said half-groaned, coming down from the pleasure he had experienced, looking at John with eyes sparkling with satisfaction and a smirk on his face. 

“Amazing.” John finished for him, a wide grin making his cheeks hurt. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, kudos and comments!  
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